


The Munchies

by Smooty



Series: 2Doc NSFW One-Shots [9]
Category: Gorillaz
Genre: M/M, Trans Male Character, Trans Stuart "2D" Pot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2020-01-01 09:30:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18333311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smooty/pseuds/Smooty
Summary: “You will get this place tidied up and ready for Noodle’s birthday,” Russel had growled before he left Kong that morning. He was taking their guitarist out to get an outfit for her birthday party, which meant the two other band members were left with getting everything ready. Including the cake.





	The Munchies

“You  _ will _ get this place tidied up and ready for Noodle’s birthday,” Russel had growled before he left Kong that morning. He was taking their guitarist out to get an outfit for her birthday party, which meant the two other band members were left with getting everything ready. Including the cake. 

“How many eggs are we supposed to put in this again?” 2D asked, holding the carton precariously over the mixing bowl. Murdoc was fiddling with the stove, trying to get it set to the right temperature. With no answer, he plopped a few, whole eggs into the batter for good measure. 

“Stupid piece of shit!” he shouted, kicking the oven door. The singer jumped at the loud banging. “There we go!”

The kitchen was a complete tip, as usual, though the mess from the batter added a new layer of grime. It was just a boxed cake mix, all they had to do was add eggs, water, and cook it. So far so good. 

“Ok D, pour that in the pan and we’ll pop it in the oven, easy as pie!” Murdoc said, adjusting the temperature. 

“Or as easy as cake!” the singer added, doing as he was told. The batter looked a little lumpy, but that wasn’t a big deal, right? He gave it to Murdoc, who set it on the middle rack and.

Murdoc looked around the kitchen and at the other. The younger man was covered in batter and cake mix powder. 2D had a little bit on his nose, right at the tip, and the bassist reached up to wipe it off. 

“You’re a mess, Stu,” he laughed, wiping the batter off on the other’s shirt. 

“Hey! That’s not fair, I did all the hard work!” 2D frowned, then got a sly look on his face. Before Murdoc could ask what he was doing, the singer wrapped the bassist up in a big hug, effectively getting him covered in the goop as well.

“What the--!” he shouted, trying and failing to wiggle out of the taller man’s grasp. It was no use, and Murdoc was about to give 2D a shove or punch to get loose when he noticed a can of whip cream on the counter. They were supposed to use it on top of the cake, but...

“Hah!” the bassist exclaimed, grabbing the can and directing the nozzle straight at the singer’s face. 2D sputtered and let go of the other man in surprise. Murdoc continued holding down the nozzle, getting whipped cream all over the floor and everything else within reach. 

“That’s not fair!” 2D whined, holding his hands up to keep the confection from getting in his eyes. Murdoc wasn’t showing any sign of stopping, so he looked around for a weapon of his own. His eyes landed on a bowl of sprinkles and he took action. 

From that point on, it was war. Both men threw cake decorations and anything else they could find at each other, laughing the entire time. At one point they were huddling on either side of the kitchen island, tossing fistfuls of sprinkles like grenades. 2D was at a disadvantage, being too tall to get behind the island fully, and he was quickly running out of ammo. He only had one other option, and in a flash he darted around the counter, charging the bassist with a handful of whipped cream.

He took three long strides up to Murdoc, hand outstretched and ready to smack and cream right in his face. Unfortunately, the floor was slippery with dessert, and he started sliding. Murdoc could only watch on as the singer slid into him, knocking them both to the floor, 2D on top. 

“Bloody fucking Hell!” Murdoc swore, trying to sit up but slipping back in the mess. Stu fared just as poorly, his legs splayed out at awkward angles. 

“Ouch…” he whined, twisting this way and that, trying to disentangle himself from the bassist. It was no use, and in fact, every time he tried to get up he made things worse, pressing their bodies closer and closer together. 

“Stop wiggling you bloody idiot!” Murdoc snapped. The singer didn’t listen, and the bassist began to lose his patience, each movement brushing their hips together in the most delicious way. “2D stop moving!”

“But Murdoc--!” the younger man cried. He was sticky and sore and something was poking into his belly that made him really uncomfortable. He wanted to get up and take a long, hot shower. 

Satan, the singer didn’t even know what he was doing, did he? Murdoc bit back a moan, feeling himself harden against the pressure over his crotch. Finally, when he could take it no longer, the bassist sat up, taking 2D with him. The younger man yelped as he was manhandled into the Satanist’s lap, their faces inches apart. 

“Lemme up Murdoc!” He was squirming again, and the bassist let out a low growl at the feeling. That was enough to make the singer stop and glance down at where their bodies pressed together. “O-Oh…”

“Yeah, oh,” Murdoc mocked, brushing his hands along the singer’s sides. “You’re in trouble now, Dents.” The way he said it sent shivers down the singer’s spine. You could never tell with Murdoc. 

“I-I’m sorry!” he whined, arching his back a little and pouting. The bulge in the bassist’s pants was more obvious now, how had he not noticed before? The thought of a little mid-afternoon friskiness wasn’t exactly unpleasant, especially with the hungry look on Murdoc’s face. 

Murdoc growled, taking the younger mans hips in his hands and making him sit still. 2D continued to pout and wiggle enticingly, knowing how it turned the bassist on when he did. Murdoc’s grip tightened further, nearly to the point of pain, but 2D loved it. 

“Mmm, you’ve been a bad boy, haven’t you Dents? Gotten yourself all messy,” Murdoc said, leaning forward to lick a spot of whipped cream off the other’s cheek. 

“Don’t tease!” Stu said, arching into his touch. The bassist chuckled darkly, grinding his hips against the singer’s in slow, small circles. “You’re the one who sprayed the whipped cream all over the place.”

“Don’t sass me, Bluebird,” the older man warned. Stu huffed but was quickly silenced by the feeling of sharp teeth against his neck. Murdoc began to lick and bite at the pale skin there, leaving purpling marks everywhere he went. “Delicious.”

“D’you always get off on baking?” Stuart laughed breathily, tilting his head to give the bassist better access. He tried to speak evenly, but Murdoc's teeth against his skin made his voice shake and wobble.

“Only when I'm doin’ it with pretty, blue-haired morons,” Murdoc answered. His hands began to wander from the singer's hips to other places, pinching and rubbing all of 2Ds most sensitive spots. “You tastes good.”

“S'cause I'm covered in cake stuff!” Murdoc was a mess as well, and the singer wondered what cream and sprinkles would taste like off his skin. The bassist didn’t bother replying, too busy with the other man’s belt and fly. Within seconds he was shoving a hand past Stu’s trousers and pants, feeling the heat and slickness inside. 

“Murdoc!” 2D wailed, thrashing around the Satanist’s lap. He knew first hand how good Murdoc could be with his fingers.

“Ah, that’s pretty mate,” the bassist praised, gently taking the other’s clit between his fingers and rubbing. Stu whined highly, his grip on Murdoc’s shoulders tightening to be almost painful. It wasn’t long before they were both moaning into each other's mouths. 

“Murdoc, you gotta--” the bassist cut him off by pushing him off his lap and onto the floor. Stu was seconds away from telling the older man off when he noticed that Murdoc was actually scooting back to take off his own trousers and pants. He got the hint then and quickly kicked his the rest of the way, then shucked his shirt. He left the binder on, but he knew Murdoc wouldn’t mind. This wasn’t the first time they’d slept together. 

As soon as Murdoc was naked he was back on the singer, pushing him to lay down on the cold, sticky tile floor. He crawled overtop of the younger, leering down at his body. His hungry stare gave Stu an idea, and he reached out a hand, grabbing one of the discarded cans of whipped cream. 

The singer angled the nozzle towards himself and sprayed a line of cream from his belly to right above his cunt. The bassist’s eyes lit up immediately, and he leaned down to lap at the delicious treat. His long tongue wriggled over Stu’s hip bones and into his belly button, making sure not to miss a single spot. The singer writhed and arched, beginning to regret spraying so much.

“P-please jus’...” he trailed off, bucking his hips up to get his point across. Murdoc ignored him, now sucking and biting at the sensitive flesh of the singer’s belly. “M-Murdoc! I-I want more!”

“More of what?” the bassist asked, skipping over 2D’s core to kiss and bite at his thighs. The singer whined and reached down, tangling his fingers in Murdoc’s hair and practically forcing him to press his face into his pussy. 

“Fine, fine. Needy one aren’t you?” the bassist said, rolling his eyes but also finally,  _ finally, _ prodding his tongue between Stu’s folds. Murdoc knew what he was doing, tonguing the singer’s clit and thrusting two fingers inside him. 2D’s grip on the other man’s hair was brutal, but Murdoc didn’t seem to mind. In fact, it seemed to spur him on, eating the other out with gusto and lots of sloppy wet sounds.

The singer made his gratitude known with lots of vocals. Each thrust of Murdoc’s fingers or swipe of his tongue would be met with a loud cry from Stu. He couldn’t even feel the sticky sprinkle covered floor below him, couldn’t smell the cake baking. Everything was a pinpoint, narrowed in on the feeling of his throbbing cunt being masterfully eaten out. 

“I-I’m -g-gonna--” Everything was tensing and  _ rising up up up  _ until he crested over the peak and came in a gush against Murdoc’s face. The bassist watched him as he came, working him through it until he lay flat against the bed, twitching from overstimulation. 

As he came down, Stu threw an arm over his eyes, groaning softly. His whole body felt like rubber stretched just a bit too far. A nap sounded really good right about then, but he could feel Murdoc moving around in front of him and knew they weren’t done yet. 

The bassist was sitting back on his knees watching 2D, a can of whipped cream in one hand, the other wrapped around his own cock. He smirked as he shook the can and sprayed a little whip topping onto his dick, still watching the singer the entire time. 

“Come’on Dents, time for you to have a taste,” he said, tossing the can aside. Stu had to fight the urge to roll his eyes. Even though it was kind of ridiculous, he sat up and scooted forward so he was eye level with Murdoc’s prick. 

“That’s it, good boy,” Murdoc praised as 2D licked the confection off with slow, careful laps. The singer really did enjoy sucking the other man off, but he was so boneless and tired after his orgasm he couldn’t quite bring himself to be as enthusiastic as usual. Luckily that didn’t seem to be a problem for Murdoc; the bassist was moaning and grunting with each lick, his breath hitching when Stu finally took him in his mouth. 

“Mmm, take it darlin’,” he murmured, cradling the younger’s head in both hands. “You gonna let me fuck your face?”

He nodded a little, letting his jaw go even more slack. Murdoc groaned and began thrusting into his mouth. He was surprisingly courteous, not gagging the singer or pulling his hair too hard. Stu rewarded him by wiggling his tongue against his slit and moaning. That made the bassist’s eyes roll back. 2D had to suppress a smirk at the sight.

“Oh, yes, yes that’s good, Bluebird,” Murdoc praised as his thrusts got faster and more erratic. “You’re gonna make me cum, Stu, oh shit--!

Murdoc came with a grunt, holding the singer’s head tightly against his hips. Stu did his best to swallow everything, but a little bit dribbled out onto his chin, mixing with the whipped topping from before. Eventually, Murdoc relaxed and pulled his softening cock from 2D’s lips with a satisfied sigh. 2D brought an arm up to wipe his face, coughing slightly but still smiling. 

“Good show, Stu,” Murdoc said, straightening up and stretching. 2D was going to say something back, something sexy or maybe sweet but he was cut off by the shrieking blare of an alarm. 

“What the--?” he screamed, hands flying up as he scrambled back towards the cupboards. Murdoc didn’t startle as easy, and he immediately seemed to understand what had happened. 

“Tha cake! You bloody idiot, you forgot about the cake!” he shouted at the singer. 2D covered his face with his hands, whimpering. 

“Y-you were the one handlin’ the oven!” he said quietly as the bassist fussed around the cooker. Murdoc didn’t hear him, luckily, too busy pulling out the blacked husk of what could have been a birthday cake. He set it gently on the counter, still naked. Stu watched the smoke rise from the pan and looked around the ruined kitchen. 

“Russel’s gonna kill us…”

“Shut up, Faceache.”


End file.
